The Torah Temimah, Rabbi Baruch Halevi Epstein (1860-1941), has a wonderful comment on a not-so-uplifting verse in our parsha. The verse (Bamidbar 1:15) says: “When the Tabernacle is set to travel, the Levites shall dismantle it; and when the Tabernacle camps, the Levites shall erect it; any outsider (non-Levite) who approaches it shall be put to death.”

TT points out that this is the verse that is quoted in the famous Gemara (Shabbos 31a) where a non-Jew asks Hillel to be converted on the condition that he be made High Priest. Hillel’s initial response is to “first go learn the whole Torah”. As the convert is studying, he comes to our verse regarding a “stranger” being put to death for doing some of the temple service. The convert asks who this verse refers to. Hillel responds, “even to King David.” A cool midrash, but what does it mean?

TT points out that Hillel has several reasons for mentioning King David. The first reason is somewhat technical. The word “stranger” is sometimes used to exclude non-priests and non-kings. This occurs in Exodus 30:33 (“Any person who compounds anything like it [oil] or puts any of it on a stranger shall be cut off from his people.”) In that verse, the Gemara says that the word “stranger” does NOT include a king; after all, a king is anointed with oil from the temple. However, in our verse, the Gemara holds the opposite – that the word stranger even includes a king.

The second reason for mentioning King David, according to the Torah Temimah is that King David is descended from converts. Hillel was obliquely telling the convert that he could become as great as King David, but like King David he would still be a “stranger” vis-à-vis the temple service.

I’ve been thinking that perhaps this whole episode in the Gemara and the fluid meaning of the word “stranger” is meant to teach us something about stranger-ness. We all know the command for us to remember that we were strangers in Egypt. On the other hand, I think that we all feel at home in our “four cubits” of Judaism; no matter how we define that for ourselves. Maybe the lesson from King David is that stranger-ness is ephemeral. Maybe Hillel was telling the convert that he’ll never fully attain the state of “I’ve made it.” In some ways, we’re all “in”, but we should always remember that in some ways, we’re simultaneously “out”. It’s a good way to remind us to always keep our empathy active for strangers, inside our fold and outside of it.